


Facts of Life

by Lulzy (likelolwhat)



Series: For the Love of a Meme [15]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Asexuality, Community: skyrimkinkmeme, F/M, Gen, Masturbation, NPC-centric, POV First Person, Seeing Other People, Skyrim Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:25:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likelolwhat/pseuds/Lulzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curwe manages being asexual and married at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Facts of Life

**Author's Note:**

> De-anoning from the skyrimkinkmeme, [this prompt](http://skyrimkinkmeme.livejournal.com/4941.html?thread=10651725#t10651725).

It's true, what they say about Imperials.

I hate to be the one to say it, but then again I could be just about the only mer who is qualified to, after the War. Neither of our races are much inclined for the other anymore, if you know what I mean.

In any case, all those rumors about the sexual drive of Imperials beneath the law-and-order facade? True.

I love the man, but I've never understood how he could want it so much. (Or at all.) Luckily, he respects me enough to ask before getting his rocks off elsewhere, and I always okay it, because I know he has needs even if I don't.

Well. Needs that involve _other people_.

I don't know if there's a word for people like me. Maybe back in Alinor, but undoubtedly the Nords here would never think of one. It's not that they're nosy about other people's sex lives. It's that a big part of their culture is bragging about their own. At least they don't expect an Altmer to share as well, or I might find out whether they have stigmas about the... disinclined.

Altmer do. As low as our birth rate is, we have to. Everyone is paired up, everyone has one-and-a-half kids, everyone parts. It's very impersonal, but it's also very mandatory.

Which is why I had to leave, and met him in the first place. Like I said, I love him. But it's Mara's love, not Dibella's. A peck on the cheek, gifts for Saturalia, snuggling by the fire when the winter winds howl around us. Roses and sunshine, but never wine and oil.

I didn't mind, when he first asked if he could seek his pleasure elsewhere. He was kind about it, and I'd known it was coming. I knew he didn't think there was anything wrong with me (he'd told me often enough), and it wasn't him, not quite. It was his body betraying him.

Like it betrays me.

So I lean back on the bed — our marriage-bed — and work at it. I don't think about anything. I have no fantasies, not for this.

It is an itch, and though I know that, like any itch, it is only made worse by scratching, I cannot help it. The snows have come; I cannot take a walk to clear my head. My husband braves the cold on a regular basis to fall into someone else's bed, but I have never been able to. I still remember Alinor, sweet sea breezes on my face. Eternal autumn forests and walking within buildings of crystal. The day I forget my homeland is the day I forget myself.

I'm close, my mechanical motions becoming frantic, and then it is done. I open the door and stick my hand in the nearest snowbank, letting the sting clear my muddled head. It is wet snow, blown under the overhang onto the porch last night by winds like vipers.

My body aches. It is pleasant in the moment, but before and after I feel sick. I always do.

_He will be home tomorrow_ , I think, looking up at the gray sky. He always is.


End file.
